


A Short Eternity

by Clair de Lune (clair_de_lune)



Category: Prison Break
Genre: M/M, Pre-Series, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:10:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7694350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clair_de_lune/pseuds/Clair%20de%20Lune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It will last for as long as it will last. <i>Qué serà serà</i> as Lincoln put it. (Pre-series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Short Eternity

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Une courte éternité](https://archiveofourown.org/works/187566) by [Clair de Lune (clair_de_lune)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clair_de_lune/pseuds/Clair%20de%20Lune). 



> Initially written in French in March 2011 for miya-tenaka’s Sex Is Not the Enemy Challenge @ LiveJournal. Loosely based on this [picture/prompt](http://sexisnottheenemy.tumblr.com/post/158521354).  
> Many thanks to Foxriverinmate for the beta.

It will last for as long as it will last. _Qué serà serà_ , as Lincoln – who knows what he's talking about since he experiences a permanently temporary way of life – put it. For now, it’s a few days-weeks-months of near perfection; they seem to want to keep going on _ad vitam aerternam_ , even though they were doomed to come to an end even before they started. A short eternity. Michael relishes it as long as he can.

The Sundays are lazy and endless. The spring is warm but hasn’t morphed yet into a summery furnace. The apartment is ratty, and it will be stuffy and hellish in three months, but that doesn’t matter. Right now, the temperature in the living room is just about ideal for the two of them to hang around in their boxer shorts, from the morning ‘til the night of their lazy and endless Sundays. Lincoln is out of jail; Michael is out of the hell – purgatory, best case scenario – of foster care. There is nobody to bug them about what they should, can and cannot do; and they definitely shouldn’t spend their Sundays the way they do – nor a few week nights either, by the way.

The black leather of the couch creaks beneath Lincoln’s back – all in all, the couch is kind of nice, and Michael doesn’t want to know where or how Lincoln acquired it – and sticks to Michael’s knees. That too is perfect, perfectly fitting with everything else, the leather squeaking, and its moist suction that prevents them from moving too fast.

Lincoln watches Michael lie down on top of him, and he parts his legs to welcome him, one hand on the small of his back – as if Michael was about to try and escape him... Torso to torso, stomach to stomach, skin to skin, and the supple muscles of Linc’s chest under his mouth. The kiss is almost chaste. It’s almost always the case. It almost never goes further. It almost never tips into something else. Michael often thinks that this is what they actually need: just a bit more intimacy than morality and good sense might approve.

Of course, there are also the lazy and endless Sundays when Lincoln’s hand gets heavier on the small of Michael’s back, his thighs squeeze Michael’s hips tighter, his words are dirtier and more demanding in Michael’s ear. With the tip of his tongue, Michael draws a line up to Lincoln’s jaw and follows its strong line to the chin. The kiss is a lot less chaste, this time around; less chaste too, the way they sigh and shift against each other.

More seconds seemingly wanting to last forever, even as he and Linc try to reach and push away at the same time the line they’re heading towards; another short eternity.

-Fin-


End file.
